I Was There
by RsRet
Summary: John's POV as he watches the boys through the seasons as a ghost. Starts in season 4 but goes to season 9, MEGA-SPOILERS! Mainly John watching Sam go "dark-side." Trigger warning for attempted suicide, not graphic. Rated T to be safe for slight language and attempted suicide. Guilty!john, Hurt!Sam, Hurt!Dean


I was there when Sam started drinking demon blood. I could see him pleading with that she-demon to leave him be, clinging to his humanity. Racing through his mind he was thinking that he was turning into a monster. That's all Sam could think about when he saw his reflection in that dimly lit motel mirror. He stretched out and wiped the dried blood off of his chin, staring at his three shades too dark eyes and the red streams falling off of his jaw. He looked over his shoulder and glared at the clingy brunette who wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and rested her chin on him. "This can never happen again." He murmured darkly, his face buried in his hands. "Sam you're not evil." She said, reading his face. "You're getting ready to kill Lillith, it's admirable." She cooed, coaxing him towards her. "My Dad knew I'd become a monster-" He choked out hoarsely. No Sammy, I didn't know. I hoped you wouldn't. "Your Dad can't kill Lillith Sam. Neither can Dean. You're stronger than they are Sam, more powerful," She whispered, moving her lips down his jaw line and pressing her dainty hands along his chest. 'Get away from my son you bitch!' I screamed, but no one can hear a ghost who's weak.

I was there when the angels and demons teamed up against my boys. They held them apart and changed their messages. They helped send my son down the wrong path, they helped him march into that stone chapel and throw a chirping Lillith across the room. I was there the week before when Sammy beat his brother to a pulp, and when Dean copied me in telling him to never come back. Sammy had chosen a demon over his brother, but it still broke my heart to hear my own words leave Dean's mouth. But now Dean was pounding on the door and Ruby was grinning deviously while Sammy killed Lillith. My son's eyes turned black that day, blacker than a night sky. And single handedly my baby boy had set Lucifer free.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sammy knew that, he just wanted to help. He tried to help Dean after hell but my eldest pushed him away, so he branched out. Wanted to help in a different way. But killing Lillith had freed Lucifer from his hell cage, and I could see how he tormented Sam. Waking him as Jess, my grief stricken son had tears welling at the sight of the dead blonde caressing his face. She whispered in his ear and told him everything would be okay, but it wouldn't be. Then she changed into Lucifer, showing Sammy how far he would go. He would be willing to torment Sam with the pure image of the only woman he loved, and it formed a crack on his hardening heart.

Sam and his crazy, reckless ideas! His slap-dash plan was suicidal, literally. He would be inflicting a fate worse than death upon himself, and it hurt me so much to watch. How could he?! He would be killing Dean, signing his death certificate. Apple pie life wasn't cut out for Dean, and Dean wasn't cut out for it. But by the dewy eyes he sported I knew my good little soldier would do as told, like always. Maybe if I hadn't been as strict, maybe Dean would be a bit more open to disobeying, maybe he would have tried to free Sam. I was there when he said yes, watching him struggle against the confines of his mind. "I was just playing you," His soft eyes turned cold. "Sammy is long gone." I could see Dean splintering inside, but he forced death threats through clenched teeth, breaking down into gut wrenching sobs when he left. I cried too, silently watching my baby boy turn bad. We had our differences, hell I told his brother to kill him, but I would have never wished this on him. I would never wish it upon anyone.

I was watching in the cemetery, my stony not-son facing off with my other angel possessed not-son. I had hoped Adam could stay out of this life, but he was a Winchester, one way or another it would find him. I could tell that Sam was perfect for Lucifer's vessel, the fallen son. I had pushed him away, told him he was evil; I had inflicted that on him. I had made him into Lucifer's vessel. Tears welled and escaped my wet eyes, but I was there when Dean rolled up in the impala, Def Leppard's rock of ages playing. I was there when Sammy killed Castiel and then Bobby; the man who was a better father to him than I was. When he loomed over Dean, using his large 6'4 frame to intimidate, punching him until his face was bloody and swollen mess. I was there when my boy overpowered the devil himself out of love for his brother, and flung himself into the pit. Taking the empty shell of a vessel Michael with him, at least Adam was in heaven. At least Dean was alive, if not mangled and crying. But my baby boy was in the cage. Adam was dead. And Dean wasn't Dean anymore.

I was there when a force that must've been God himself pulled Sam from the cage. I watched with my heart filled with hope, but Sammy didn't go to Dean. He didn't comfort his brother, who was spiraling into chaos. Instead he went with Mary's father Samuel, hunting once again. But he was cold, distant, harsh, very not Sam. My Sam wouldn't give up on people or put them down like dogs, but this wasn't his Sam. I was elated when he went to Dean, but he crushed him. He wasn't sympathetic, kind, funny, hurt, angered, depressed, he was just emotionless. He was a husk, cool and calculating, a killing machine. I sunk down, when he was younger I would have been proud to call- this thing- my son. But he was cruel, his hurt puppy dog eyes void of all love. And Dean knew it, he knew this Sammy didn't care about him, but he left his adopted family for Sammy anyways. I watched as he put that damaged soul back in, how Sam writhed against his restraints and yelled as loud as possible. I knew it would break him.

I was there when the wall broke, when he started seeing that son of a bitch Lucifer. I could feel his fear and confusion with the flames dancing around him, the chains yanking him up, the knife peeling the thin flesh from his muscles. When Dean found out his finally-normal-Sam wasn't back to normal, he was so hurt. When Sam got his soul back Dean had finally gained back his sense of normalcy. That funny little word Sammy had strived for, was now the blatant little world Dean fought so hard for. But Sam was pointing his gun at Dean, seeing Lucifer. Sam couldn't sleep because Lucifer was making snarky comments, being almost flirtatious with his mental tortures. Sam went for days, not eating or functioning. He was becoming gaunt and emaciated, the skin sagging off of his brittle bones. The purple bags under his eyes darkening with every sleepless night filled with Lucifer dancing around him. I watched as he popped firecrackers and sung loudly, making my boy flinch at everything. He was more of a shell now than when he was soulless, his mind tearing him apart. The hallucinations were awful things, Jessica crying, Mary burning, Me trying to kill him for going dark-side, Dean being ripped apart with Sammy's unresponsive hands. Every day he sunk farther into self loathing, hating what he had become. He heard Dean's voice echoing "You're a monster Sam," and mine repeating "Don't you ever come back." They rattled around in his skull and tormented him more than Lucifer. "C'mon Sam, they don't want you. You were always the freak. Your father didn't want anything to do with your demon-blooded boy king fate, so he passed you a long to little Dean. Too bad your big bro didn't realize what a little monster you were." I was screaming at him, none of this was true! "But you're in luck Sammy-boy. I'm a freak too, we can be freaks together." I was disgusted at the blonde man leaning too close to my fragile son, breathing on the back of his neck. I wanted to fling him back to hell, away from my already dying boy. But Sam's eyes just looked forward, empty. Haunted. Dead.

I remember when Sammy lifted the gun in his hand, feeling the weightless metal soothing him. "You know where to aim." His hallucination purred, smirking in arrogance. He glanced up to the fake Lucifer, unsure. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, making him flinch and jump out of his skin. "Don't touch me." He spat, squinting his eyes and raising the gun nozzle to the soft skin of his chin. "So touchy Sam, I guess I'll see you back in the cage big boy. Ready for round 2? I have some new ideas ya know…" The hallucination babbled on, ignoring the tears falling from Sam's cheeks. He removed the safety while I yelled for him to stop. Closing his eyes and tilting his head up, pressing lightly on the trigger. "What the hell!?" Dean growled, startling an already on edge Sam. I praised my eldest, wanting to run and hug him. Always looking out for Sammy. "Dean? I-" Sam glanced around, bewildered, gun still in his shaky hand. "What the hell do you think your doing?" He slapped the gun out of his hand, glaring at the terrified Sam. "You're not real," He whispered to a crestfallen Dean. The tears poured down his pale face, hands drawn in tight to his body. "Sammy?" His voice was quieter, softer. "Don't touch me!" He snapped again, recoiling at the slightest comforting touch. Dean's green eyes widened at Sam's reaction, finally realizing the full extent of his mental injuries. "Oh Sammy," He whispered to the shivering mass who kept reaching for the gun.

Sam was in the hospital, on lock down for a psychotic break. Always staring ahead, glancing between the nurses bringing food and medication- who he always forced a smile and nodded to in appreciation, and a very giddy Lucifer. Then those stupid demons came, those sons of bitches who gave him electroshock therapy- frying his head. I winced in angry pain as my unstable son struggled against his restraints and surged forward when the shock came. He kept buzzing with electricity, feeling it coursing through his veins. His eyes closed and he choked on the bite guard, watching the black-eyed nurse turn up the heat. But Castiel smote him, took Sam's pain, and gave Dean his brother back. I've never been so happy to see that feathered ass.

I was there when Dean went to purgatory, and when a healed Sammy met Amelia. He really cared for her, he could see a life with her! Then Dean came back, thank god, and tore that away from him with deception. I was so glad he was back, but I couldn't forgive him for pulling Sam back. After everything, he was finally happy. But he's a Winchester, and Winchesters are never out.

I was there during the trials, when Sam, Dean, and their adopted little brother Kevin searched the angel tablets in the men of letters head quarters. I admit I was shocked when I saw my father come back, and a little pleased with myself when my boys roughed him up. But I learned he hadn't walked out on me, he had given up his life to save my boys. Self-sacrifice was always the Winchester way. It gave me some relief though, knowing he hadn't left. He couldn't give me a good childhood, but he saved my boys. I knew better than to talk bad about him again.

I saw the toll the trials took on Sam, he was dying. He was wasting away again, right in front of everyone's eyes. He was alone in the church, stabbing Crowley full of blood. Confessing all of his sins to an absent father, waiting for Dean and Castiel. His eyes faltered in the back room while praying, his mouth barely moving. "These trials are purifying me," He looked up and closed his eyes, the same stance he took with the gun pressing into his head. I knew he was trying to make up for all of his good attempts gone awry. I wasn't an affectionate father, by any means, but I wanted to hug him tight and tell him it wasn't his fault. But hell, he'd never listen to me. The last thing I ever said was to kill him. Dean raced through the door as Sam raised the final injection. "Sammy don't! You'll die if you finish these trials!" He cried out. The smarmy look on Crowley's face was replaced by pained emotion, the trial was almost done. His eyes were clouded with raw pain, when had my son grown so dark inside? "So?" He choked out in a raspy whisper, real confusion dancing across his features. My heart shattered into a million pieces at Dean's hurt face.

After the angels fell Sam had gone into a coma, his whole body shutting down. I waited beside Dean, who in turn was waiting patiently by Sam. I rested one ghostly hand on his shoulder, tears welling in my eyes. "It's going to be okay Dean, you've done so well taking care of him. I never shoulda put that on you, but you did so well." I whispered into the air, he couldn't hear me but I needed to comfort him somehow. His muscles relaxed ever so slightly, maybe I had gotten through.

I was there when Ezekiel possessed Sam, shaking my head bitterly. I watched him grow more tentative, secretive, suspicious. I was there when Ezekiel turned out to be Gadriel and murdered Kevin. I prayed to God that his body wasn't as hollow as Gadriel said, hoping that somehow Sam would come back. Dean prayed too, but not to God. Or the Angels. He prayed to me, and I prayed to him. We sat together on the floor of the Men of Letter's headquarters, the closest thing they had to home. He was crying next to Kevin, and I was crying next to him. Our Sammy was gone, and I hope everyday he'll come back.

I was there for everything. Watching every painful stumble they took towards the finish line. I was there when Sam took his first steps towards Dean, and when he took his last steps away from Dean.


End file.
